


are feelings worth having?

by heckyheck_icravedeath



Series: our sweet love [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Author Is Sleep Deprived, Calanthe's point of view, Emotional Hurt, Feelings, Geralt is just one sad boy, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Uses His Words, I Don't Even Know, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I can't fucking TAG, M/M, Witchers Have Feelings (The Witcher), for like .2 seconds, i had this idea for a few days and finally wrote it, kind of, she's a goddess and would totally see that Geralt and Jaskier are gay babies, then he shuts down and is like nO, there isn't exactly much comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-08
Updated: 2020-02-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:54:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22611328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heckyheck_icravedeath/pseuds/heckyheck_icravedeath
Summary: Calanthe had athoughtabout witchers.It was quite anunfairthought considering she rarely ran into witchers, so she never really could prove her thought, which meant that her thought was based solely on what she heard from the people.But the people made a good point.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: our sweet love [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1627747
Comments: 20
Kudos: 261





	are feelings worth having?

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first witcher fanfic, so it won't be the BEST thing in the world. but i tried! i hope you like it! 
> 
> just a warning: there might be some typos and such in here. it's late and i'm a little out of it lmao. so i apologize if there are any mistakes.

Calanthe had a _thought_ about witchers. 

It was quite an _unfair_ thought considering she rarely ran into witchers, so she never really could prove her thought, which meant that her thought was based solely on what she heard from the people. 

But the people made a good point. 

If witchers had feelings, why would they lock themselves away from people? Why wouldn't they want to socialize? Wouldn't they get _lonely_? 

She supposed it could be because they didn't want to get close to someone and then lose them because of the monster fighting or the age situation. But even then. Wouldn't you risk the pain of losing them to be with them? To be happy for even just a little bit of time? 

Unless, of course, witchers didn't have feelings, which then it made sense. Because then happiness didn't matter and neither did loneliness. 

But she was determined to gather proof and see if she could come to a conclusion with her thought. She didn't want to keep having this thought if it wasn't true. 

And maybe—if she was feeling nice—she'd help clear up the rumor. 

She just needed that proof first.

——————

The situation to gather proof about witchers and feelings presented itself when it was time to hold a party revolving around Pavetta getting a husband.

Which, yes, Calanthe was concerned with that. That was her daughter. Of course, she was. 

It was just that the bard that came brought a _witcher_ with him. And well, how could Calanthe just ignore that? 

She _couldn't_. 

And it wasn't like Pavetta had to actually _pick_ someone. That had been arranged already. So technically Calanthe could do whatever she pleased that evening. 

She _definitely_ was going to do just that. 

It was even better when Mousesack called out, “Geralt of Rivia!” 

She was going to find out about witcher feelings with _The Butcher of Blaviken_. 

If _that_ wasn't exciting, Calanthe didn't know what was. 

She wasn't able to talk with the witcher during the first hour of the party. He was talking with Mousesack about something. Though she could tell that Geralt wasn't really invested in the conversation. His eyes kept moving from Mousesack to somewhere else in the room. 

She couldn't see where from her position, which made her slightly annoyed. But she swallowed her annoyance and tried to focus elsewhere for a little while. 

It was almost funny. As soon as she did that, Geralt stopped his conversation abruptly and crossed the room quickly, arriving at the bard's side. It seemed as though he was saving the bard from whatever had been going on with that man. 

The man left, and Geralt gave the bard a look that said _how much of an idiot can you possibly be?_ The bard grinned at him, said something, then walked away. 

Calanthe bet he'd need Geralt’s help again soon. 

That wasn't her concern, though. 

Her concern was along the lines of _how the fuck was she supposed to get him next to her, so they could talk?_

He clearly didn't like attention, so she couldn't just approach him. 

Well, she _could_. But then she wouldn't get her information out of him. 

Then she saw Mousesack and figured she could get him to bring The Butcher to her. 

“Mousesack!” He was at her side in an instant. 

“Yes?” 

“Bring me the witcher.” 

“Why–” 

“Just bring him here.” 

He said nothing more, nodded and made his way to the witcher. 

Geralt turned his eyes on Calanthe for a moment before slowly moving towards her. 

“Yes, your highness?” 

“You don't need to calm me that. But anyway. Sit.” She motioned to the chair that was on her right. He eyed it skeptically before sitting down. 

“What's this about?” 

“I want to chat. What's wrong with that?” 

“Nothing at all.” He had a more respectful tone than she imagined he would have. It was a pleasant surprise. She hated those who disrespected her. 

“Good. Now,” she said while looking around the room. “What brings you here? Can't say you seem like the royal party type.” 

“I'm not.” Was all he offered. 

Respectful yet closed off. 

“Then what brings you here?” She asked again which earned her a huff. It was an annoyed huff. But there was also something else in it. Something she couldn't quite describe. It was fondness, but there was _more_. 

“The bard.” 

“The bard?” She figured as much with him going off to rescue the bard. But still. It was... _odd_. 

Since when did witchers and bards spend time together? 

“Yes. The bard.” 

“Why?” 

“He's an idiot who can't stay out of trouble.” She laughed. 

“Is he now?” 

“Very much so.” As he said that, his eyes landed on the bard. (Calanthe could see his line of sight this time. She was ever thankful for that.)

There was this _smile_ on his lips as he watched the bard. It was barely there, just the _tiniest_ lift of the corners of his mouth. But she saw it. And she couldn't help but wonder what that was about. 

She avoided asking about that smile, knowing he'd close himself completely off if she asked. She settled on, “What's his name?” 

“Jaskier.” 

Was she just imagining it or did those hard as steel eyes just soften the slightest bit? 

“Hmm,” she hummed. “Why are you with him, though? I didn't think you, a witcher, would have the patience to deal with a bard.” 

“I don't.” He answered and Calanthe raised an eyebrow. That didn't make much sense. Why would he hang out with someone he couldn't stand? 

“Oh?” 

“He’s too talkative.” 

This evening was going to be _long_ if she was going to have to drag details out of this witcher. 

She sighed and took a sip of wine before repeating the question again. “So...you're with him because…?” 

Silence. 

Then. 

“He's not... _that_ bad.” 

Okay. She could work with that. 

“I have a feeling that's the best compliment you'll give him.” 

Geralt let out a bark of laughter. “Probably. Well, maybe not. There are times–” 

He stopped talking, pulled his eyes away from Jaskier, looked at her, and narrowed his eyes. It was like a switch had flipped in his head or like an alarm bell went off, telling him to stop giving things away. 

“Why are you so concerned about this?” 

_Fuck_. 

“I was just making conversation. Which clearly you don't know how to do.” 

“I do. But usually, people don't _want_ to talk to me.” 

Before she could stop the words, they escaped her mouth.

“The bard does.” 

Geralt fixed her with another one of his looks. And not the kind one that she had seen on his face a moment ago. “Are you trying to do something here?” 

_Yes_. 

“No.” 

Geralt let out a long sigh. “What'd he do?” 

“What?” 

“You're interested in him. So. What'd he do? Steal something? Put himself in a bed he shouldn't be in?” 

“He didn't do anything.” He gave her another look. “I'm serious. He didn't do anything. You'd know if he did. Trust me.” Which was true. If someone did something to her, she'd make the person pay. She wasn't merciful. “I'm just interested in your friendship. It's an odd pairing. Don't you think? You two are complete opposites.” 

He considered this for a moment. Then huffed and said, “Opposites attract.” 

Which...okay. She could work with that too. 

“Do you…um.” She paused. How was she to word this without sounding like she was invading his thoughts? 

Though technically she _was_ invading his thoughts by asking him all these questions and such. 

But whatever. She was the queen of Cintra. She could do as she pleased. 

“Do you...care for him?” 

He tensed. Granted he had been tense this whole conversation. But she could tell that his shoulders locked even more. 

“Does it matter?” His voice was tight, defensive. And his jaw was clenched. 

_Odd_. 

“Why so defensive, witcher? It's just a question.” 

“A question that shouldn’t be asked.” His tone grew sharper, his eyes turned cold, and his lips quirked into a frown. 

“Why? Does it hurt your ego? Does it ruin your reputation? _Geralt of Rivia cares for a bard_. That probably doesn’t do well for the scary look you go for, right?” She gazed right back at him with the same intensity that he had in his eyes. She wasn’t afraid of him. She wasn’t a coward like everyone else on the Continent. 

She knew that he knew this. And maybe that was why he lost that cold look in his eye and untensed just the slightest. 

He was quiet for a few moments, eyes focused on the table in front of him. 

Then he released a breath. “It’s not that. I don’t give a damn about my reputation.” 

“Then what is it, witcher?”

More silence. 

Then—in a voice that she didn’t think she’d hear a _witcher_ use. It was too quiet, too _vulnerable_ —he said, “If I admit it, then it becomes _real_. And I don’t know if I can handle that.” 

Oh. 

_Oh_. 

He was scared to admit it. He was scared to actually accept what it meant. 

So he _did_ have feelings. 

_Witchers_ had feelings. 

Calanthe felt bad. She felt bad for doubting it, for believing those _idiotic_ rumors. She felt bad for Geralt and how he had to live with people saying that he didn’t feel things. She felt bad for him because she knew that he gave up trying to prove people wrong a long time ago. 

She was also glad, though. Glad that the bard could see past the rumors and lies. Glad that he could see Geralt as a living thing and not just some pile of shit. Glad that he cared for the witcher as much as the witcher seemed to care for him. 

She had her proof for that already. It was in the smile that Jaskier gave Geralt. It was in the way he looked at Geralt. (He looked at the witcher as if he was the one who gave the world its brightness.) It was in the fact that he kept looking over at Geralt from his spot across the room when Geralt wasn’t looking at him. 

She wanted to tell him that it was okay to feel things. That it was okay to care for someone. Sure, it was horribly scary. But it was great at the same time. 

So she did tell him that. 

“It’s hard to accept it, but you can’t just ignore how you feel.” 

“Why not? That’s how my life has been so far.” 

That was sad. So fucking _sad_. 

Calanthe hated the world for this. 

“Because it’ll just make things _worse_ for you. And it’ll _crush_ him.” 

“But it’ll keep him safe.” 

She knew what it was like to want to protect someone with all you could. She knew what it was like to wish you didn’t care as much as you did. But she knew that fighting it was useless. She knew that things could and _would_ happen that were beyond her control.

She wished Geralt could see that. 

“Maybe. But maybe not. Sometimes you can’t control things, Geralt. You should know that better than anyone.” 

“I–” He started, but cut himself off. “We should talk about other things. Like the soon-to-wed Pavetta.” 

Calanthe wanted to argue. She wanted to get him to see that he couldn’t just _ignore_ his emotions because he wanted to protect Jaskier. She wanted to get him to see that despite what people said, he deserved to be happy. 

But she didn’t. She couldn’t. Not when he was giving her that look. That _desperate_ look that _begged_ her to drop the issue. 

She simply nodded and said, “Who do you think will start a fight first for my lovely daughter?” 

All throughout the rest of their conversation, Calanthe silently hoped for things to turn out well for Geralt and his bard. She hoped for happiness to reach them. 

That was one of the only times she hoped for something like that to happen to someone other than herself and her daughter.

**Author's Note:**

> how was it? decent i hope. 
> 
> i'm planning on writing more fanfics in the future. i have a few ideas right now. i just need to actually write them lmao. but i'm excited to write them and share them with you guys. 
> 
> i want to do one like this, but it's Ciri's point of view. but we shall see. 
> 
> anway, thanks for reading! leave a like or comment if you would! they always make my day!


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